


tight spaces

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Incest, Accidental Sex, Incest, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Non-Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: A series of very unfortunate events has lead Haytham to a very intimate mishap in a closet with Ratonhnhaké:ton.





	tight spaces

Haytham isn't really sure what to do with this new information. He supposes he should feel like this is at least a minor step forward in their relationship even if they're obviously never going to see eye to eye on core values. If this isn't considered even the slightest show of trust, Haytham isn't sure what is. His son showed him to the private, seemingly secret rock pool just inside a less than easy to get to cave and insisted on a bath- mostly just to spite Haytham, surely.

Revealing a perfectly decent hiding spot like this, in itself, seems like a major leap of faith in their relationship already. Then Conner got undressed. Haytham doesn't stare, of course not, but he certainly didn't need to to understand what he saw. His son is large, brutish almost, which he gets partially from Haytham, Ziio certainly wasn't that large of a woman, but even at his young age Conner has already out grown Haytham. It would go to reason, Haytham had assumed his son would be proportionally well endowed.

Conner isn't.

Conner doesn't have a penis at all.

Haytham isn't foolish enough to jump to the conclusion that Conner is actually his daughter because obviously that's untrue. He isn't sure how to bring up what or how this came to be and upon further consideration, he decides it would be better not to or at least polite not to. It doesn't change anything so it doesn't really matter. He knows the natives have some 'interesting’ customs, anyways. Distantly, he wonders if Ziio was a woman. He had never really asked. Haytham has always had a queer precedence for men but he's always enjoyed women, too.

While the water is cold, after their last scuffle, it's nice. He's more bruised than he wants to be but he can't deny they managed themselves fairly well. Truly a part of him wants to be able to convince Conner to see things more reasonably and be able to have a good, if not bearable, relationship with him but working together so far has really only proven that's not going to happen. A large reason he and Ziio didn't stay together was for the same differences.

Haytham glances over his shoulder. The pool is a fair size and as such, they've moved to separate sides to bathe away from one another. Even now Conner keeps one of his blades laced to his arm and Haytham would assume it's because of him but honestly, he doesn't think any assassin can ever be comfortable without their false sense of safety. Conner leans against the ledge on the other side, though, contently enjoying the cool water as he rests his chin on his arms. Haytham had obviously insisted on a real bath somewhere not outside but stubbornly, Conner wouldn't have it.

This didn't start out too bad, at least.

Conner lifts his head suddenly, all at once more alert than before. Briefly, Haytham assumes Conner has realised he's looking but after a moment, he hears it, too. It's the march of soldiers and they're close by but Haytham doubts they'll stumble their way down here. It seems Conner thinks otherwise because he's hastily pulling himself out of the water and quietly listening around. Haytham won't argue cutting this short. He climbs out after, careful not to make too much noise, and Conner hastily grabs their clothes in a heap.

Before Haytham can really stop him, he's gesturing to be followed and hurrying further into the cave. The thought of prancing around completely naked isn't exactly ideal but Haytham peers back out the mouth of the cave and sure enough, a pair of row boats are heading straight in their direction. Apparently this hiding place wasn't as hidden as it seemed. Without much of a choice, Haytham tails Conner. Further in, the cave turns narrow and further still, it turns into something that was obviously mined out and abandoned.

“Conner,” Haytham snaps mildly. “Clothes, _please_.”

“I have them,” Conner assures, still hurriedly moving along.

“Yes, I can see that. I would like them back,” Haytham replies with growing irritation. It is colder both wet and out of the water.

“Not now,” Conner says without pause.

“ _Yes now,_ ” Haytham snaps. “Just because you don't have a problem wandering around in the flesh doesn't mean I care to.” Conner manages the time to cut him a look but not give him his clothes back.

“At least it is spring,” he answers instead, clearly doing this beyond strict necessity. “This way. I do not want to be caught by Redcoats.” After their last stunt, neither of them really want to be. It'll be awhile before the heat cools and until then, it'll be best if they stay out of sight of anyone in uniform, honestly. Conner somehow wedges himself through a fairly small crevice and Haytham awkwardly follows, shielding his lap as he goes. Oh great, they're outside now. Even better.

“And I don't want to get caught completely _naked_ ,” Haytham barks quietly. Conner throws his jacket at him haphazardly. Honestly, he's not sure where his son got his attitude from more; him or Ziio. More likely a horrible mixture of both. Haytham yanks his coat on as he moves, at least slightly covered now, but more interested in getting the rest of his clothes back sooner than later. Fortunately Conner doesn't drag them off far, ducking into a small house suspiciously unoccupied.

There's hardly a beat before Conner is shoving him into the closet and the only reason Haytham goes along with it is because he's caught off guard. His back hits a wall hard and sudden Conner is toe to toe with him in the dark. This closet isn't intended to fit one person let alone two above average sized people. It's too close for comfort and immediately claustrophobic even for someone as used to tight spaces as Haytham.

“Conner-” Haytham begins. Conner covers his mouth immediately. The only reason Haytham deals with _this_ is because he hears the soldiers painfully close by, talking with one another as they pass by outside. Upon further listening, there's a lot more of them, too. Where did they all come from?

“Why are there Redcoats here?” Conner asks quietly, clearly speaking more to himself but open to Haytham’s input by having spoken at all. For once, Haytham isn't actually sure. There's nothing around here except for a couple abandoned houses. He would assume they're only passing through but where they're going is questionable, too. Perhaps they're trying to flank a patriot troop.

“So you've trapped us in a closet surrounded by Redcoats?” Haytham clarifies. “Naked.”

“I did not think you wanted to deal with them naked,” Conner says, no less stoic than usual.

“I'm not certain now,” Haytham assures sourly.

“You are free to change your mind whatever you would like,” he answers. Haytham definitely isn't _happy_ about being wedged in a closet but he can't say it's for no reason. They could fight their way out through some soldiers, they have before, but if it's avoidable, it's preferable. Granted, he also thinks they had a few seconds to spare for him to put his bleedin’ trousers back on.

“They're not looking for us,” Haytham comments. If they were, they'd be doing it much better.

“Huh? You say something?” a voice outside says and Conner irritably covers Haytham’s mouth again. Haytham pushes his arm away roughly, giving him a cold stare in the dark. “Guess I'm hearing things.”

“Do you have to speak like you can not hear yourself?” Conner asks mildly. Haytham sneers but he goes ahead and doesn't make a reply lest his voice carries again. There's quite a lot of them and they seem to be floating around arbitrarily. If the soldiers are looking to set up camp here for the night, they're going to have a bit of an issue getting out of this closet, aren't they?

Being so close together, almost pushed chest to chest, Haytham can feel Conner go stiff suddenly. He quickly tries to listen for what he hears but after a second, he realises it's not that. The frantic pace over here, the anticipation of being found, and the closeness of a warm body regardless of whose it is has coaxed Haytham’s cock to be more than a little aroused. In their tight quarters, it prods Conner’s leg impolitely. Everything about this situation is a nightmare.

“Aren't you a little old for this, father?” Conner asks scathingly.

“Pardon? Too old for what?” Haytham bites back. “To get an erection? No, Conner, I'm not. Don't flatter yourself, people with penis can get an erection over a slight breeze.” He's hardly attracted to his son, after all. It has been a long while since he's taken anyone to bed, however, and the effects of being this close to a body certainly not unattractive were it not connected to said son obviously has some effect on him. Much to his severe misfortune. This is obviously _fantastic_ for their already rocky relationship.

“Get it away from me,” Conner hisses quietly. Which is a fair demand, really. With his semi-erect cock rubbing against Conner’s strong thigh, the problem has only grown worse now, the friction urging him more fully erect. It's much too easy for his cock to slip between Conner’s thighs and they're one bad movement away from even more undesired contact. Again, he isn't the one that shoved them naked into a closet.

“Yes, well, if you'd have any suggestions as to where I should go, I'm all ears,” Haytham assures. Less than pleased with sarcasm and no action, Conner moves to deal with it himself. Considering Haytham kind of likes his genitals the way they are, he decides to figure something out himself. “ _I_ have it under control,” he assures hastily. It takes a bit of very careful maneuvering but he manages to get a hand between them to more or less cover his cock. Mostly less with the space between them limited and Haytham’s cock quite determined now. Putting hands on himself isn't helping any, either.

Conner lets out a mild breath of a noise. Now the back of Haytham’s hand is pressed right up against Conner’s lap, his surprisingly neatly groomed, thick pelvic hair scratchy but more importantly, Haytham can feel with no uncertainty the overwhelming warmth that naturally radiates from his cunt. The angle leaves much to be desired and Haytham ignores the same as Conner does the hot feel of flesh. Still his son, still such a nightmare scenario.

They stand in awkward silence for a while, listening to the troops move around outside. Haytham tries to think of anything to will his erection away but even with his well trained self control, there's only so much he can do. Reminding himself that Conner is his son for fuck’s sake offers little aid, unfortunately. Apparently his cock doesn't mind that so much when Conner is both warm and firm against him. He thinks of boring logistics and strategies and still his stubborn cock doesn't flag an inch. If it is this hard to lose an erection, he has a serious problem and should probably make at least somewhat of an effort to get laid more often.

Likely uncomfortable, for clear reason, Conner tries to adjust to change their position but the help it gives is minimum. His fingers mindlessly wear into Haytham’s coat without much of a place to put his hands otherwise- not even enough room between them to cross them. It wouldn't be surprising if his son is already emotionally exhausted, this is likely the most skin to skin contact he's had in his entire life and it's unfortunately with Haytham.

“Can you move your hand?” Conner asks impatiently. As much as he could surely live his entire life without knowing what the back of his father's hand feels like pressed against his clit, there's not much of a choice here.

“Conner, if I could, I most certainly would,” Haytham assures shortly. “I don't want to be in this situation you've put us in any more than you. You're going to have to deal with it for the time being, the alternative-” Again, Conner covers his mouth with a glower of irritation crossing his face. Honestly, Haytham doesn't think he's that loud just because he isn't as ‘soft spoken’ as his son. Unfortunately he's also wrong.

“I definitely heard something,” a familiar voice says. “Check the house, okay?” Conner’s look only darkens and again, Haytham pushes his hand away to reply with a less than pleased look of his own. Maybe if Conner would just learn to make do, this wouldn't be an issue. They sit even quieter, trying not to even move as a soldier wanders into the house and comes a little closer to finding them. Haytham mentally prepares a back up plan for when they are inevitably found. No matter what, this is going to go poorly for them in the beginning.

“Nothing’s here,” a voice says.

“ _Check_ ,” comes the sharp reply followed by a disgruntled murmur. Fortunately Redcoat foot soldiers aren't exactly the brightest group of individuals. They can only listen and wait on baited breath. Haytham isn't sure what kind of fool makes a closet door that opens inwards but in this case, he can see the benefits. The door shakes briefly and Conner immediately pushes his whole weight back on it to keep it closed.

Haytham grimaces as they're put into a new position, Conner’s hips now angled to fully press his hot cunt against the back of Haytham’s hand. Conner closes his eyes, unpleasant at first and then resign. The door rattles again but Conner is more than capable of fending off against one soldier. Unfortunately, Haytham realises that if the closet door had opened correctly, Conner easily could have surprised their seeker and avoided this whole thing.

“Blasted thing,” the soldier grumbles. “It's wedged.”

“Unwedge it,” snaps the other. More unhappy murmuring. This is getting worse by the second. Haytham knows they'll give up sooner than later and for the moment, there's nothing they can do. Conner stays pressed against the door as it rattles and shakes. When this doesn't work, obviously more extreme measures are taken. Even Conner is rattled by the forceful thump on the other side, the door likely being shoulder checked now. Conner is jolted and subsequently, his cunt ground against Haytham’s hand.

The wetness on the back of his hand is definitely not water left over from their bath. Haytham tries to ignore it as Conner twists his face unhappily. He moves to brace himself a little better and likewise, Haytham tries to reposition himself but it doesn't help, each thump making Conner grind against him unwillingly. It's a little surprising such little stimulation is capable of getting his son so slick, though. Haytham would have assumed Conner was as cold sexually as he is personally. Or he wouldn't have assumed that actually because parents tend to try not to think how their children are ‘sexually’ even if Conner is well in his twenties.

He can feel Conner’s cunt quiver against his hand and the closeness puts Conner’s laboured but stifled breathing nearly in his ear. Could he really come from just a little rutting? Not that Haytham has any comment about that. It's about high time this soldier fucked off.

“Sod it,” the voice says. The thumping stops. Conner lets out a relieved little exhale and his tensed form relaxes if not minutely. While understandable he'd like to be able to change positions as soon as possible, he really needs to think things through. In retrospect, Haytham could do with a little of that, too. Conner takes his weight off the door and for lack of being able to scold him for it, Haytham urgently pushes his hands in his place. Not a moment later, the entire door rocks with the weight of being charged.

Conner’s strangled noise is only hidden by the soldier loudly cursing up a storm. Honestly, being found naked in a closet with another man by Redcoats would have easily been better than this if Haytham had thought it through for even a second. Having to move his hands to brace the door obviously left his still very persistent hard on unattended and as such, it immediately springs back to position. The violent jerk of the door rocks Conner forward and now they stand paralyzed with the tip of Haytham’s cock presses dangerously against Conner’s slick folds. Neither of them move for fear of everything and anything else.

“Put your back in it,” the other voice says. No no, that's not necessary! Perhaps panicked, he certainly can't be blamed for that, Conner urgently tries to move. Already braced in an awkward position, Conner’s foot slips in their clothing. Haytham is prepared for so many things in life, none of them are this. He can feel the wet heat engulf several inches of his cock before Conner can stop himself. Oh. Good. He's fucking his son. Lovely.

“There's nothing in there, can we just go?” the soldier urges. Haytham stares distantly into the dark. There is literally nothing he can do at this point to even begin fixing this problem. He can't move at all without inevitably moving either further into his son or causing Conner to lose balance and give similar results. Conner seems to realise this too because he goes rock stiff, unwilling to do anything to potentially worsen their situation. It's already pretty worse actually! Haytham doesn't think there's any going down hill from here!

“But you don't know that, now do ya?” comes a snarky reply. “Someone locked that door for a reason, now didn't they?” The reason is death. The reason is Haytham is going to murder every Redcoat in the area the second he's out of here. There's more irritated grumbling outside and then another harsh thump jolts Conner forward. They both wince their eyes closed.

Conner gathers his senses again, his frantic breathing evening out again. He tries to push himself up, at least to get into a position so Haytham can release the damn door, but another bump bounces him forward again. This is somehow so much worse, actually. Conner’s jaw is set firm, face twisted in displeasure, and Haytham is doing everything he can to not focus on his cunt clenching viciously around him. He's already so tight but so slick, hopefully it's not particularly painful. Haytham can't say he's a man particularly lacking endowment, unfortunately in this case.

Frustrated in the dark, Conner seems to be struggling to get his feet untangled from their clothing. It takes all of Haytham’s self control to not snap at him. Then he's going down, great, and Haytham realises he's being taken along, _even better_. Haytham only manages to catch their fall by bracing his feet in a less than ideal position against the door. Unfortunately, Conner thinks much too much like him and quickly braces himself against the door and back wall, a combined effort that effectively plunges Haytham root deep into his son’s painfully tight cunt. He actually hears Conner whimper.

While Conner is now pinning the door closed again, there isn't much Haytham can do with his hands anymore to fix their problem. Getting out of this situation _without_ the soldier trying stupidly to break the door in is already going to be a massive problem on its own. Haytham clenches his jaw as he feels Conner convulse around him, already tight and squeezing even tighter as if to get him out. The soldier bashing against the door, forcing Conner into an awkward grind, isn't helping anything.

“Stay still,” Haytham warns. Everything they've tried to do to get out of this has only amplified the situation and he is done with it. They're just going to wait and suffer now.

“Father-” Conner replies sharply, likely seeking to complain and Haytham returns the favour of covering his mouth. He is _not_ going to get caught now. Conner bites him, the brat, but remains silent even as Haytham yanks his hand away. He is perfectly aware that they've only gotten themselves into an unfixable mess. If Haytham believed in hell, he'd also believe there would be a special place in it for him.

They have no choice but to wait, Haytham’s still achingly hard cock swallowed whole. He'd think being forced to fuck his own son would be a severe turn off but apparently not. Conner grinds his teeth as Haytham tries to look at anything else, tries to iron his will against anything else. Every shallow thrust only makes it worse though and soon Conner is trying to move away from them which only increases the already immense friction between them. He's still clenching down so hard.

“Relax,” Haytham hisses out lowly. Conner gives him a sour look in response. He can't, he _won't_ come in his son. Absolutely not. He thinks as much but every second he draws closer and closer to a long withstanding orgasm. If Ziio were still alive, if she found out about this, she'd rightly slit his throat.

Haytham unquestionably blames Conner for this, that goes without saying, but considering Conner is already taking the brunt of the punishment, he thinks he'll keep that to himself. Neither of them want this anymore than the other but if Conner doesn't speak to him after this, Haytham wouldn't be surprised. He's really only lucky Conner hasn't remembered he still wears his hidden blade, to be perfectly honest.

It was Haytham’s assumption that this was unpleasant for Conner, that he grits his teeth and winces his eyes because it hurts and, in fact, Haytham is sure it _does_ hurt. That only makes it that much more surprising when Conner tenses suddenly, arching his back against the door with a noise he silences between teeth. He clenches down so hard around him, Haytham flinches. Shortly after, he limps, mutely trying to catch his breath and looking, not for the first time, caught off guard.

Conner must be incredibly sensitive. Upon further consideration, Haytham can't be that surprised about this, either. It only took minor ministrations to get him wet and on top of that, Conner’s threshold for pain is quite immense. He just came from finding himself fully impaled on his own father's cock, stretched beyond what would surely be comfortable, trapped in a small space with two Redcoats very determinedly trying to break the door in.

Haytham’s own orgasm catches him by surprise, too. Even relaxed, Conner is ridiculously tight and it only takes a couple more rocking thrusts to suddenly push him over. As soon as it happens, he knows it's too late and he closes his eyes resignedly. What started as a decent day has come to a head with him fucking and subsequently coming in his own son. Fantastic.

Neither of them look at each other, silencing their laboured breathing as the soldier outside _still_ tries his absolute damnedest to break the door in. Redcoats are stupid but relentless apparently. On a very dingy silver lining, Haytham’s cock is finally softening and Conner lets out a small, relieved breath. They're pressed too tightly together for it to slip out but it gives them both some much needed breathing room. He can still feel Conner twitching and clenching around him involuntarily.

Minutes pass, the situation goes from horrifying and awful to mostly just numb and irritating. Haytham knows they're both becoming impatient having to wait like this, soreness and pain setting in both from their awkward positioning and more so from their unintended coupling. He is not normally one to pay for the company of another but this might just be the exception. The sooner he can cleanse himself of this, the better.

“What are you two idiots doing?” yet another voice yells. _Finally_. “Someone lives here! Look at the mess you've made! We're not here to loot! Get out!” With the proper scolding, several feet audibly and hastily make their way out. Both Haytham and Conner relax immensely. As quietly as possible, they urgently try to rearrange themselves again. Conner finds his footing more easily without the loud, insistent distraction and hoists himself back to his feet. Haytham quickly makes to do the same before he finds himself face to face with his son's cunt.

Standing isn't much better but at least they're not unwillingly joined anymore. Conner shields his nethers with his hand, exhaling a protective sound. At the very least, they're thinking properly again; nothing clears the mind like quietly simmering rage. Outside the soldiers still linger and it's another painful twenty minutes of silently sharing a small closet pressed against Conner and having to think about what's happened. Or not think about it. Haytham is thinking more about how he'll love to string up the next Redcoat he comes across or better yet, follow this ‘troop’ and hang them up.

The second the sounds are a reasonable distance away, Conner hastily maneuvers them around to squeeze back out of the closet. Haytham is unsure now he even got them in there in the first place. Instantly, they separate to opposite sides of the house, backs meeting. This whole event was a nightmare situation that he never could have anticipated in his wildest fantasy. It takes a second for him to adjust to the light again and in the meantime, Conner throws the rest of his clothes at him.

Haytham notices the blood.

Were it just that, Haytham wouldn't be alarmed. He is significantly more alarmed that it's on his _cock_. That is- no matter how wet Conner was, being forced to take something he was in no way prepared for surely has repercussions even with how large his son is.

“Conner,” Haytham says. Conner grunts in annoyed reply. “Are you injured?”

“No,” comes the short response. Neither of them want to acknowledge what happened, obviously, but if Conner _is_ injured, leaving it would prove much worse. Haytham hastily pulls his trousers back on at least. He turns to find Conner knuckle deep in his own cunt, irritably hunched over with a foot braced on a dusty stool. Dutifully, he's trying to scrape the cum from inside of him. That's an image Haytham certainly could have done not having seared into his brain.

Haytham truly hates to say it but, “I should check. I doubt you know what you're looking for.” In response, Conner silently reveals his hidden blade in warning, a crystal clear warning not to come within his reach. Which is fair, yeah. “You surely do not believe what happened was my intention, Conner. Refusing my help just because-”

“I am not injured,” Conner repeats irritably. “Not physically.” His always mild tone makes it difficult to tell if this is some attempt at ‘grim’ humor or an honest statement about his emotional stability. His ever stoic face certainly doesn't help with that, either. That's surely as much a ‘Native’ thing as it is a ‘Kenway’ thing.

“As much as I'd loathe to have to teach you about sex now, _blood_ is not normal,” Haytham assures. “If you're in pain, there could be serious damage.” Conner doesn't answer for several moments, his blade still displayed in an ever present warning that Haytham isn't too interested in tempting. Even if he were, he's certainly not going to try to force his fingers into his son, even benevolently, anyways.

“Some blood is normal for a first time,” Conner finally murmurs. Haytham is more appalled than he is shocked. “A torn hymen is far from ‘serious damage’. I am surprised it was not already broken from horseback riding or training.” Conner was a _virgin_. He took his son’s _virginity_ in a closet by _accident_. Haytham is certainly not a man of many shames, either but he feels this by far makes the list. He's still rather stunned when Conner begins redressing more properly.

Conner looks at him, then away again.

“This was an accident,” he says. “We will not speak of it again.” It is not a threat because it has no reason to be.

“Agreed,” Haytham answers immediately.

“I am going home,” Conner informs shortly, adjusting his braces as he speaks. “We will- decide our next move on the matter at hand later.” ‘Later’ is vague but far be it from Haytham to rush their next encounter. They could both use some time to sort through what happened; Conner moreso.

“Very well,” Haytham agrees, still buttoning his own shirt. “I'll be in New York.” Conner nods a hasty agreement as he leaves. What a terrible nightmare today was.

The shame Haytham feels for what happened is immense, certainly. It is not, however, more so than the shame he feels when he realises excitement stirs in his belly at the realisation that he took his _son's virginity_. This could be a problem.


End file.
